


Smoothskin

by snipershezz



Series: Super Serum Surprises [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Fluffy Ending, Ghoul, Het, Human!Hancock, PWP, poor Danse is just trying to help, the mysterious serum strikes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 03:38:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5651149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snipershezz/pseuds/snipershezz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anya's going to fucking kill Danse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smoothskin

**Author's Note:**

> I warn you now this is nothing but pure smut! This piece was written for the Fallout kink meme. Please don’t read if you are offended by that.
> 
> The original prompt was as follows: Danse, after finding out the secret of the mysterious serum, decides to ‘help’ in his own very special BoS way. So he injects an unknowing Hancock with the magically rejuvenating, radiation erasing super-serum. After he’s done shaking and vomiting and generally being sicker than he’s ever been before, Hancock discovers he’s back to his former body, smooth skinned, human, shaggy hair - and all of about nineteen. His 30-something lover is both disturbed and aroused.
> 
> EDIT 30-12-2017: So, I like to go through my stories at the end of every year and see how my writing style has changed, I realised suddenly that I never did that last year, so here's to me going through forty-eight works in four days! Updated with minor editing :) Happy New Year ya'll!

Anya stretched lazily, last night had been a blast, everyone together - sometimes you just gotta cut loose. She opened her eyes to see a face above her, smiling.

“Look at you, I must still be dreaming.”

She fumbled for her glasses, the face came into focus and she screamed. The man scrambled back from her as she brandished her knife. “Who the fuck are you?”

The man’s jet black eyebrows furrowed.

“Are you still drunk?”

She shook the knife at him, “What are you doing in my room?!” She looked around frantically, where was her boyfriend? “JOHN!”

“What?” The stranger said irritably, “Can you not shout so loud Anya? Some of us are nursing a hangover.”

She looked at the man in shock, the way he held himself was familiar, but that wasn’t possible, was it?

“H-H-Hancock?”

“Yeah?” The man replied, she covered her mouth and let out a squeak. “What is the matter with you? Are you having a bad trip? Can you even have a bad trip from alcohol?”  A feral look crossed his face. “Did someone put something in your drink doll? I’ll fucking kill them.”

“Oh my God.”

“ _What?!_ ” He said, exasperated.

“Mirror.” She said, quietly.

“What?”

“GO LOOK IN THE MIRROR!”

The sound that came from their bathroom would’ve been hysterical had she not been in shock.

* * *

 

She watched him brush his shaggy hair out of his eyes for the fourth time in the last five minutes.

Preston leaned back in his chair, “So you don’t remember anything.”

“Nah, I mean, I was normal last night. After we came home, I threw up a lot, like _a lot_. More than I should’ve for how much whiskey I had.” He shrugged, “I just thought it was a bad batch.”

“Nothing unusual happen?” Nick questioned.

“Nah, it was -” his eyes narrowed, “wait, I did talk to Danse last night, he usually avoids me like ‘m a plague victim.” He shrugged again, “Just thought he was drunk.”

The man in question strolled up, looking pleased with himself, “Morning gang.”

Anya drew her pistol, “Danse, you _fuck!_ What did you do to my boyfriend?”

Hancock smirked victoriously, he still got a kick whenever she called him that.

“I dunno what you’re-”

“Then how did I end up like this?” Hancock interrupted smoothly, folding perfect, pale arms over his chest.

“ _Hancock?!_ Holy shit, it worked!”

Anya stood up, taking a step forwards menacingly. “What worked?” She spat.

“I – uhhhh – easy now -” He held his hands up.

“You have three seconds to start explaining or I’m going to shoot you in the dick.”

Hancock snorted, “You better do it tin man, I’ve seen her do that to a raider.”

“Ok, ok, I just – put some of the serum in his drink.”

“YOU DRUGGED HIM?!”

“Easy love, you’ll rupture something.”

She swung around to stare at her partner. “How can you be so _calm_ about this?!  He _drugged_   you!”

He shrugged, “Nothing I can do about it now, what’s done is done.”

She swung back waving the gun at Danse. “Is it permanent?”

“I-”

Anya stood on her tiptoes to grind the gun into his temple. The fact that she had to, to reach his head didn’t make her any less menacing.

“Is. It. Permanent?” She grit her teeth in a snarl.

“I don’t know.” Danse replied quietly.

“You better fucking find out Danse or so help me I will strip you naked cover you in meat and leave you to the motherfucking deathclaws.” She pulled the gun back, “You have forty-eight hours.” She turned stalking off down towards the river bank.

* * *

 

“Hey.”

She took a drag of her cigarette, “Hey John.”

He sat down next to her. “Ya know, ya probably shouldn’t put your feet in there, radiation and all.”

“Don’t care.” She replied petulantly.

He sighed - it didn’t come out like usual. “What’s eatin’ ya doll?”

“It’s this whole thing, I mean, you’re human – again. I just  – I dunno it’s scary.”

He snorted, “Damn, I’m not that ugly am I?”

She smiled, “You’ve never been ugly, John. I’ll admit, it’s a little weird seeing you like this, but that’s not the point. I guess I always thought of you as – well, it sounds stupid but, kinda immortal you know? Radiation can’t touch you, you’re faster and stronger as a ghoul and now - well I’m worried you’re gunna get hurt.”

He put an arm around her, “I’m still me doll, I’m just in different packaging.”

“Squishy, fallible packaging.”

He nudged her gently, “I love you Anya.”

She smiled, “I love you too - smoothskin.”

He cringed, “Ok, let’s never call me that again.”

She smirked, “Smoothskin.”

“Anya -”

“Smoothskin!” She said in a sing song voice.

“That’s it!” He said playfully, she shrieked as he chased her back into town.

* * *

 

Anya woke up early the next morning, John was fast asleep on his stomach, arm flung up over his pillow. She studied his body, he was very pale, a thin red scar cut across his side in stark contrast. It looked like a knife wound. His hair was jet black, long and shaggy, it had a slight curl to it, and she could see a shadow of a beard beginning to grow in across his cheek. His jaw was strong, as was his nose and he had big ears - that made her smile. He had always been thin, but well built, and with skin it was that much easier to see, her fingers ached to explore this new version of her lover.

What struck her as odd was how very young he looked. She knew John had gone through the ghoulification process twelve years ago, she also knew he was in his thirties now, which would technically make him nineteen or twenty in physical age.

_God I’m a cradle snatcher._

Sapphire blue eyes opened sleepily. Those eyes. They unnerved her a little, so different to his normal eyes, but they were beautiful. Almost ethereal. He smiled with actual lips and the whiteness of his teeth dazzled her. There was no denying that before the radiation ravaged his body, John Hancock was _bloody gorgeous_.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself, handsome.”

He chuckled, “You say that every morning, only now I actually believe you.”

“John.” She admonished. He kissed her forehead, his hair tickled her cheek. “How old were you?” His eyebrows drew together. “Ya know, when you took the wonder ghoul drug.”

He looked thoughtful. “Just after my birthday, I was twenty I think. I dunno toots, when you’re a ghoul you stop countin'.” She watched thick eyelashes drop down as he blinked.  “Why?”

“You look half my age, hon.”

“You ain’t forty, you’re thirty-four, but you tell everyone you’re thirty-two.” He smirked, she was instantly fascinated with his lips. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” He kissed her and it was familiar and different all at the same time, his hand trailed down her waist squeezing lightly.

“Yo, Anya! Ahhh geez! Cut that out!” MacCready leaned against her door frame.

“What’s up Robby?”

He glared at her, “Don’t call me that.” Hancock chuckled. “Tin man is back.  I think he’s got some answers for you.”

Anya got up searching for her pants. “He fucking better.”

MacCready shrugged, “Alright, I’m out, I don’t wanna catch a stray bullet if things get ugly.” He wandered back down her hallway.

“Pussy!”

“Sticks and stones!” He called back.

She dressed quickly, walking out onto the porch. Hancock followed shrugging into a shirt as he crossed the threshold. Anya tried not to get distracted by all that wonderful skin.

“Talk to me Danse.”

“Ok as near as the scribes can tell, it isn’t permanent. A much higher dose is required for that.”

“Right. So how long will it take to wear off?”

Danse shifted awkwardly. “That’s the part we don’t know, it could be days, months or at worst - years.”

“YEARS!?!?!”

Hancock caught her in strong arms. He’d never seen the Paladin run away from anything, even a deathclaw, then again his Anya mad was a _much_ scarier thing.

“Calm down toots, you’re going to blow a gasket.”

“When I get my hands on that meddling piece of shit bastard, I’m going to rip him limb from limb and leave his heart on the doorstep of the BoS!”

Hancock chuckled, “What else are you going to do?”

“Smear his blood on the walls and decorate their door with his intestines – I dunno – wait - are you getting off on me being violent?”

“Maybe.”

She looked up at him over her glasses. “Inside. Now.”

The door was slammed behind them, clothing shed piece by piece down the hall. By the time Hancock had reached his pants the were in the bedroom. He dropped them to the floor with a thump and Anya gasped.

He smiled at her tucking a golden lock behind her ear. “What did you expect?”

She shrugged blushing, “Well - I expected you dick, but that is just something else - wow.” He blushed, actually blushed and she could see it!  It was adorable. “John, sweetie, you’re blushing.”

His face went even redder. “Damn skin.”

She placed a shaking hand on his pale chest, dark hair covered his torso, it was smooth and not at all familiar, but the hitching breath and the quiet groan - in a voice that was different from his own - was uniquely John.

“Make love to me John."

He grasped her in a strong grip, laying her gently down on the bed. “Everything feels so different doll, like, more intense.” He chuckled, “I didn’t think that was possible with you around.”

She trailed a hand up his chest, the hair course against her fingers. “Show me.” She whispered.

They explored each other’s bodies with familiarity of old lovers but with the slow burn of a new couple, learning each other’s bodies for the first time.

When he finally pushed into her, it was so perfect she could’ve cried. It was overwhelmingly different, she almost felt she was being unfaithful, then he leaned over her ear, whispering such dirty thoughts a sailor would blush and she knew that no matter what John looked like, he would always be _her_   John.

As they lay in bed much later she snuggled against him. “Is that even possible?”

“What toots?”

“The thing you said, with the mutfruit.”

“Ask MacCready.”

She looked at him in horror, “I will kiss a super mutant before I _ever_   ask him about that.” She shivered, “Eww.”

Hancock chuckled, “Are we going to be ok Anya?” A hint of doubt coloured his tone.

“John, baby, love of my life, you can be an utter moron sometimes. I love _you_   not your skin. You could be purple with pink polka dots and I’d still love you.”

He laughed, “I love you too.”

“Look, I know it’s unnerving for you, you know to be human suddenly but take it one day at a time. I’ll be right here with you.”

“I dunno what I did to deserve you.”

Anya smiled, “You were just you John. Straight shooting, no braminshit, flirtatious, kind hearted you.”

* * *

 

The changes happened slowly, as the radiation re-balanced itself in Hancock’s body. Small things, like his eyes changing back to the deep black she was familiar with.  One day she woke up and his voice was different. It had developed two tones, like some weird type of vocal interference. The gravelly sound, like cracked concrete she was familiar with and the new voice - lilting and smoky. When he spoke, she discovered a whole new set of things she loved about him. They didn’t make it out of bed that day.

* * *

 

She woke a week later out in the Commonwealth in some hole in the wall with a dirty mattress to see the face she fell in love with two years ago.

“Morning sunshine.”

Anya threw her arms around him and kissed him. She touched his cheek when they parted.

“I missed this face.”

“Really?”

“Yes, John, really.”

It was almost dusk when they returned home. Hancock looked up, his radiated pupils glowing in the blackness of his eyes.

“Hmm. It’s getting dark.” He smirked at her, “It’s ok I do my best work in the dark anyway.”

She threw an arm around his waist, squeezing, “ _Yeah_ you do.”


End file.
